


Euphoria

by lucythemermaid



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: M/M, Nipple Piercings, Painplay, Piercings, Sensitivity?, Sex, Why Did I Write This?, i don't even know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-25 04:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14371083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucythemermaid/pseuds/lucythemermaid
Summary: After the Tumblr hype that has occurred where we've all agreed Timmy would look his Very Best with a nose piercing, Armie & Sweet Tea take a trip to an unfamiliar side of New York where Armie has a surprise up his sleeve himself.(I'm honestly not sure how well this'll go down, but hey, everything once.)Thank you, 6, for supporting me in this crazy idea.Chapter 2 owes a huge thank you to ihighlydoubtthat so this is gifted to you, snow (haired) Queen. <3





	1. I’d Look Homeless for Weeks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ihighlydoubtthat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihighlydoubtthat/gifts).



> I have no idea why I wrote this thing. But be rest-assured that there's more to come. 
> 
> TW: needles, piercings, pain during sex?

“Are we _really_ doing this?”

Armie’s voice was at the cusp of irritability. For starters, he hadn’t eaten in coming up to three hours. Second, they were in a rough area of New York (Armie wasn’t sure where and didn’t want to Google for fear of recent crime reports that would undoubtedly show up), stood outside what was said to be a tattoo parlour but looked the equivalent of death’s door. That, and the fact he couldn’t for the life of him imagine Timmy with a fucking ring _shoved_  through his nose. Wasn’t this something you did to piss your parents off at fifteen? Not at twenty-two at the peak of your career. Armie had tried to tell him this. Had heavily implied (well, outright insisted) the sheer _fact_ that he’d look like a fucking idiot. Yet Timmy had laughed it off, punching Armie in the shoulder so many times it had bruised, with the same ~~excuse~~ justification _._

_“It’s all a bit of fun, man! What would you do if Liz got one? Maybe I can convince her…”_

_“Not a fucking chance. She’s what people call… hmm, what’s the word? An... adult?”_

_“I think the word you’re after is boring!”_

_“You are such a child.”_

\---

“Stud or ring?”

Timmy was _actually_ going ahead with this. The guy in front of him was a fifty-fifty split between Jack Black and Marilyn Manson. The man was terrifying. Armie, of course, towered over him but the tattoo to blank canvas ratio of his body was outnumbered by what was a human art exhibit. Armie wanted to grab Timmy by the legs, lift him over his shoulders and run back to civilisation, away from this circus they’d found themselves at. Instead, he looked at the guy going to shove a needle through Timmy’s nose, with a judgemental, furrowed brow before rolling his eyes. He went to pick up one of the magazines displayed on the table, flicked through it and returned the damn thing with disgust. _What are holes that big in your ears for? Fucking disgusting._   He sounded like his mother and that was enough to be close to throwing up there and then. The needle hadn’t even been _released_ yet and Armie was already close to passing out. Timmy, sat on the tattoo bed, sported a cheeky, nonchalant grin, completely relaxed as if he were sat at home on the couch. He mouthed a ‘what’s up?’ at Armie. Armie’s response was a bitter sigh which made Timmy chuckle awkwardly, before engaging in eye contact with the man beside him who was about to injure his nostril.

            “Arms,” Timmy looked across at Armie who was now scrolling through his phone to ground himself. “Stud or ring?

            Armie winced, picking at the skin of his thumb to which Timmy glared at him as subtly as he was able to, given the mirror opposite him, Armie sat infront of it. Luckily, the piercer dude was surfing through jewellery like it was a sweet jar and paying no attention to the two guys looking the most out-of-place customers he’d ever witnessed.

            “Um, neither?”

            “Ring,” Timmy announced proudly, grinning at Armie with a wink.

            “I forgot subtle isn’t in your forte,” Armie muttered, unamused. “You still wear Spiderman boxers half the time.”

            “If they still fit, why throw them out? We’re attached at the hip,” Timmy said putting his palm to his chest in some theatrical heartbroken performance, before spluttering at his pun which Armie sighed at dramatically, before a smirk was painted across his lips. If anything, the image of Timmy looking adorable in his ridiculous underwear choices could make this whole experience bearable.

            “You’re terrible.”

            “Right boys, let’s get to this,” the scary dude with ears twice the size of the regular person announced. Armie looked up, startled, before exhaling with the relief that the guy wasn’t addressing the both of them.

           

\---

 

            And it was over.

            And Timmy, of course, sat like a complete champ, not wincing once. Armie stared at him in disbelief. Timmy's alcohol tolerance was atrocious, yet his pain tolerance was super-human.

               Timmy grinned at Armie, his dimples rising. In fairness, Armie thought, _he looked fucking adorable._

            After running through the after-care process, which Armie listened to practically on behalf of Timmy as he was so distracted by the glitz now sat proudly on his face, they were ready to leave. Armie couldn’t have been more relieved (or hungry), yet he looked deep-in-thought.

            “S’up, man?” Timmy squeezed his shoulder, encouraging them to get going.

            “If I don’t do it, I’ll chicken out.” Armie muttered, scrunching his face up slightly in contemplation. Timmy examined him, the mask he could usually, so effortlessly decode, yet Armie showed no clues. Timmy rolled his eyes at Armie’s muted response.

            “Well?” Timmy laughed. He was more comfortable around Armie than anyone yet his awkward laughter remained an act of habit. Armie pursed his lips, mulling over what was clearly a _monumental_ decision.

            “If you’re thinking of copying me after you told me I’d look homeless for weeks…”

            “No no, not quite,” Armie smirked, trying to meet the scary guy’s gaze who was now cashing up the till. Timmy wasn’t quite catching on with Armie’s attempted subtleties and rolled his eyes before a dramatic ‘WELL?’ escaped his lips. Armie winced, muttering a ‘for fuck’s sake’ and pulling Timmy aside with a playful smile.

            “I’ve been considering it a while actually,” he whispered, before lightly tracing the swollen skin around Timmy’s new jewellery with his fingertips. “Since the clamps were such a success…”

            Timmy’s eyes widened in disbelief, before a wide, ferocious grin was plastered across his lips. Excitement was something Timmy struggled to disguise (the worst being Pauline’s surprise 15th birthday party which she ended up having to fake _not knowing_ about to their parents. Timmy did the washing up for a fortnight afterwards in her debt.)

 _“_ You’re kidding me, right? You’re fucking kidding?” Timmy exclaimed, before Armie hushed him dramatically, grimacing, with his hands moving rapidly to emphasise.

“You wouldn’t.” Timmy murmured, with his eye-brow raised, as if to challenge him.

“Well, if I can tolerate nipple clamps, this should be a breeze.”

 _“I would_ n’t be so sure,” Timmy chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

 _“It’s mea_ nt to make them more sensitive,” Armie whispered matter-of-factly, before ruffling Timmy’s curls playfully. Timmy opened his mouth to respond but Armie had already headed towards the desk with a confident stride, suddenly in his comfort zone. When he had control of a situation, he was at complete ease. Timmy rolled his eyes. _Typical._

            The piercer shook his shoulders (after looking at the pretty-giant facing him who just moments before had looked like he was about to pass out on behalf of his friend) casually in response to Armie’s request.

            Armie turned to Timmy. The roles now reversed. He stuck his tongue out playfully. Timmy felt his cheeks burning, the whole situation left his heart racing with a tightening of his chest. The fact that Armie was doing this not just for himself, but for _them._ It felt like some weird-ass sign of commitment. What was leaving Timmy flushed, causing the room to look slightly discoloured, he couldn’t quite pin-point. If it was watching Armie go through it, wincing possibly with more discomfort than he’d experienced from Timmy’s control. Or, if it was the currently unspecified activities that were to come once they’d got back to his apartment, miles away from this run-down, alien location.

“T, I might need you to hold my hand for this.” Armie’s voice, significantly less contained than just seconds before, broke his trance. He hadn’t realised just quite how light-headed the scenario had made him until he lifted his head at Armie’s request.

 

            _What the fuck was going on?_ (Not that Timmy was complaining.)

 

 


	2. Anything for You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential TWs: Mentions of piercing play/needles etc

Timmy’s apartment was a sight for sore eyes. Armie didn’t roll his, blink in astonishment, or say a word about the state of it anymore. Did Timmy own a vacuum cleaner? Did he know what a mop was? Unlikely.

Armie knew the experience would fucking hurt, but he wasn’t quite prepared for it. Timmy sat there, staring at his nipples wide-eyed. _A needle is going through that thing, is he fucking crazy?_ In fairness, Timmy stared at his nipples a lot. They were one of his favourite things about him, physically, if he could minimise his list to a select few. But this was a change that felt the Least-Armie-Thing possible, yet Timmy found the whole spontaneity of the situation humorous (unlike Liz who would _freak_.)

“How you holding up, solider?” Timmy asked, as he flicked the kettle on. As he moved, he found more and more things to throw across the room. Food cartons, laundry. Armie had gotten used to the normality of the situation and made himself comfortable amongst the mess that made Timmy, Timmy.

“Doing okay. The aspirin has kicked in now. It’s numbed them, I think.”

Timmy looked up from the cupboard, whereby he’d just grabbed two mugs.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate.”

Armie raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing across his mouth. Timmy looked away instantly, amazed at his forwardness. More often than not, Armie would be the one to initiate anything. Clearly, Armie’s spontaneity that afternoon had the effect he was anticipating.

“Mm?” Armie began, tracing lightly the faint outline of the bars through his shirt, his gaze holding his companion’s. “Why would that be?”

Timmy turned from the kitchen, slower than usual, as if to prepare himself for any potential disappointment. “Have you told her?”

Timmy rarely referred to her as _Liz_. It made her _real_. For speaking her name was cause for eruption of the bubble Armie and himself had crafted. That’s what they referred to it as. Ironic to a degree, for bubbles were so delicate, fragile. Only Armie said that’s not where the analogy had come from. He felt light, carefree and _floaty_ around Timmy (he’d used that description once before and Timmy laughed solidly for half an hour.) Nothing was holding him to the ground. Gravity didn’t exist when they collided. Well, that was until Armie’s phone buzzed. Often followed by an exasperated sigh from Timmy’s lips. He knew who it was. Armie didn’t get texts from anyone but her when Timmy was around. Armie claimed this was just coincidence, for it’s always Timmy that texts him; that he was just sensitive to it. Timmy used the word controlling once. Which made Armie flinch. They hadn’t mentioned it since.

“Nope.” He muttered, picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his sweater.

“Um, are you going to? I mean, to save her from a potential heart attack…”

“I think I can hide it from her just fine.” He smiled. This smile confused Timmy. _How was he so calm about this?_

Armie smirked very briefly before recognising the look on the man’s face. He hadn’t caught on. Of course he hadn’t.

“T,” he stood up. Timmy was turned away from him, in attempt to shrug off the whole thing. Armie’s hand was on Timmy’s shoulder. He flinched. “She hasn’t touched me since we, well, since we became a _we._ ”

Timmy looked up in disbelief. Three weeks ago, they’d admitted to their affections. The confession that had taken a year and a half to surpass its fragile surface. Surpass the obstacle that was Armie’s situation, the threat to the friendship the two of them had crafted as if that’s all it was. Then fucked in Timmy’s apartment that whole evening, until she texted asking where he was and _what kind of Father misses his children’s’ bedtime?_

“I swear to you. She tried to initiate it once. I shrugged her off, said I was tired.”

Timmy scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “She clearly doesn’t know you as well as she thinks. You’d never turn that down, however tired you were.”

A playful smile emerged across Armie’s mouth. Without surrounding to any doubts in his mind, he reached out to Timmy’s hairline and began twisting one of the loose curls around his fingertips. “You’d know.”

The faint outline of Armie’s supposed _modification_ was visible now in Timmy’s eyeline. His nipples were now, apparently, permanently erect. A superstition, some myth Armie had found out in googling his new _kink_ , that Timmy wasn’t so convinced by. The thin cotton of his sweater, only a light cover-up for the April showers, clung to his chest as if to tease his spectator. Sensitive as it may seem, Timmy felt slightly disconcerted. The fact that Armie had kept his interest out of arm’s reach, whether surprise or not, felt atypical and concerning.

“Take your shirt off.” Timmy’s voice was released from any former anxieties that held enclosed it. The depth and confidence that came with it surprised him. He sounded controlled and direct. Perhaps the disappointment, if you could call it that, had worked to his advantage. He wanted pay-back, for if Armie had gone through that, so unexpectedly, for them, for _him_ , he owed him the intrigue, regardless of any internal hesitation he was trying to suppress.

Armie’s eyes widened. His lips parted in attempted response, before Timmy’s palm obstructed his efforts. His hand now covered Armie’s mouth, which he moved briefly for Armie to throw his shirt to the floorboards. He stood there, inches from Timmy who was still fully-clothed, feeling exposed. Perhaps it was the piercings, the fear that they were a ridiculous idea. Searching Timmy’s face aimlessly for some kind of validation, which Timmy sensed. His eyes were squinting slightly, smiling before the playful smirk had met his lips. The glint of metal, man-made and forced into Armie’s contrasting, supple skin, intrigued Timmy with an unfamiliar passion.

“I want you to lie on the bed for me.” Timmy’s voice was authoritative, causing a flinch from Armie whose only method of expression was his eyes, for Timmy’s hand still sheltered any means of satisfaction that were to play out across his lips.

He spoke the words like they weren’t his own but had been harbouring inside his mouth, waiting for release at a time such as this- when his body controlled his mind in the fire of new curiosities. “Let me take a look at you...”

Armie obediently lay crossways, his broad back flat on the uncomfortable mattress- an uncertainty in his eyes born only from Timmy’s uncharacteristic dominance. He would let him have his fun, whatever it was- he didn’t much care. Timmy could, if chosen in a moment of need, ask to open his skin with a blunt instrument if it brought him pleasure. Hell, he wouldn’t even need to ask.  _Anything for you._

Timmy strode up to the bed and with childish fervour, clambered on top of Armie, straddling the width of his crotch and resting the weight of his nimble body directly in his lap. The pressure caused Armie to close his eyes through the unstoppable twitch in his cock which he knew Timmy felt against him in the shining smile he now presented. Glowing like an excited teenager, his lips morphed into a pout as he glanced over Armie's nipples. 

"Looks good, Hammer."

He felt Armie's whole body tighten with anticipation underneath him as he reached a slender finger to the right nipple. He knew not to play with fresh piercings but he needed  _something._ The second his fingertip made contact with the soft, pink skin, Armie's nipple hardened further causing the fresh wound to move with new life around the metal bar. Armie flinched.

"Careful with that," Armie smirked and was met with a playful look. Timmy shifted on top of him, purposefully weighing heavier on Armie's hardening cock. 

God what Timmy wouldn't give to put Armie's nipple in his mouth. To tongue wetly at its soft skin and feel the foreign taste and texture of metal between his lips. He could feel himself responding to the sight in front of him with every passing second and in the interest of not wanting to waste a single moment, lowered himself down to meet Armie's mouth with his own. 

"Fuck..." Armie spoke into Timmy's open mouth, their lips touching- his tongue slipping up against Timmy's in a feverish admission of want. "Tim..."

Timmy suddenly clutched at Armie's chiseled jaw with one hand and turned his face to the side, asserting his control and exposing the length of Armie's neck. He bit at the sensitive skin, worshipping the smell he found there that somehow made anywhere seem like home and gave him an unequivocal sense of freedom. His teeth only nibbled at first, gently grazing the stubble- but the need driving him urged a deeper bite and he progressively sunk them harder into Armie's skin. 

"Be careful.." Armie whispered on a sharp inwards breath, at which Timmy immediately ceased his action and turned Armie's head back to face him. 

Timmy knew what he meant. Not to mark him. Not to give him anything to take home to his wife. 

"Stop." Timmy's eyes darkened and threw a seriousness out between them that Armie was not expecting. "Stop telling me to be fucking Careful. All I ever am with you is Careful. I don't want to be Careful."

He reached slender fingers up into Armie's hair and pulled back, hard- exposing his neck. Still unsure where this adrenaline had come from but deciding to make the most of it, he bit down firmly on the skin between his shoulder and collar bone- feeling Armie's body buck up underneath him in pain, surprise. It had an instantaneous effect on his cock that now throbbed terribly in the prison of his jeans. 

In a matter of seconds, Timmy had crawled down Armie's body, pulling off his trousers and underwear before removing his own. He took in the beauty of Armie's erection with hungry eyes, his mouth watering at the wetness around its head. Although no longer intimidated by the sheer size of it, Armie's cock never failed to take his breath away and without laying a hand on him, he could recall the exact weight of it, the feeble proportion of his mouth around it. 

In silence, he sat himself on his knees between Armie's legs and began to work his wet lips over the glistening head and was met with struggled gasps. Working harder, his mouth closing down over as much of Armie's shaft as he could possibly manage- dragging his tongue along the underside as he rose slowly back to the tip before sinking down again. 

"Oh god... Tim... I can't-"

"Shh." Timmy shut him off. He had no intention of making Armie come this way, as much as his desperately missed the taste of his eruption on his tongue. He needed more and uncharacteristically was driven to just  _take it_ , rather than asking for it to be given. 

He removed his mouth from Armie, happy with sheen of spit and precome but moved to retrieve the lube from his nightstand. He held it in Armie's direction until he understood and squirted some onto his fingertips- repositioning himself to straddle his stomach, leaning forward and kissing him hard. 

Without verbal instruction, Armie knew what to do with his slick fingers and reach around to work Timmy open- firstly with one finger, then two. The tightness, the gasp that flew into their kiss, made Armie drip and throb profusely in the shallow gap between their bodies- the thought of Timmy knowing exactly what he wanted and just getting it, even more so. 

"I'm going to fuck myself on your cock, Armie," Timmy told him quietly against the corner of his trembling mouth. As if the man underneath him was inanimate. 

He moved himself back and upright, positioning himself perfectly and letting the tip press against his wet hole. He wanted to drag this out- make Armie wait for it but in truth he wasn't sure how long he'd last and feeling the blood pound in his own leaking shaft, lowered himself down and let the familiar size fill him. A blissful hit of his favourite drug. 

With one hand pushing down on Armie's solid chest and the other palming his cock, he rode Armie with determination and watched him look up from the mattress in adoration. 

"Come on me, Tim," Armie managed through laboured breaths- knowing from much practice when Timmy was close. _"Please."_

As if drawn out through those words alone, Timmy shot heavily on to Armie's chest, over the back of his own hand and at the same time, felt Armie release inside him. Trembling through their orgasms and with Armie still all the way inside his body, Timmy slumped down to rest his forehead on Armie's collarbone. 

This was it, he thought as Armie stroked through his sweat-dampened curls. This was what he lived for. 

He looked down underneath his lashes at the addition through Armie's nipple and wondered how long it would take to heal. 

 

... How long until he was allowed to pull at it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huuuuuuuge thank you to my no.1 for the help with some of this. <3
> 
> We're on Tumblr at wantedyoutoknow & c-u-at-midnight

**Author's Note:**

> I'm wantedyoutoknow on Tumblr :o)


End file.
